“Relax, sweetcheeks,” she murmured sarcastically, gripping the bars and craning her head to see, “I'm just here to take in the view. “ As she tried to see down the dark, blue-tinted corridor, River noted that the Dalek's eyestalk was looking her up and down, seeking any body language signaling aggression. “You know, in a certain light,” She said whimsically, “when I'm really tired, I might think you Daleks aren't half sexy...well, I might if I was some pervert who got off on squishy green psychopaths who live their entire lives inside an artificial environment. Thankfully, I'm not.”

“The prisoner will be silent.” The Dalek grated at her.

“And, you're lousy conversationalists. No wonder no one ever sees you hanging out in the pub with your mates after a hard day of killing.” She whispered to herself. The Dalek started to raise its weapon. “Alright, alright, mum's the word.” River told it, suddenly not looking so flippant. Respectful of the power behind the gun, she held up her hands and moved away from the bars.

“That looks like River!” Amy shouted, as the Doctor and his companions approached the detention area.

“So it is.” The Doctor said, trying not to show too much how relieved he was to see River. “Fancy that.” Despite his false nonchalance, the Doctor couldn't help himself. He gave River a lopsided grin and said, “We really need to stop meeting like this, you know. What is it with you and prisons, anyway?”

“Oh, that's right, you're not into bondage in this regeneration.” River replied cheekily. “Whoops—sorry,.” she whispered, giving him a sly wink, “spoilers.”

“Silence!” The Dalek behind him ordered.

“Nah, don't think so,” the Doctor shrugged, “having too much fun. Life with the Daleks is just one big situation comedy. Take the Emperor of the Daleks, for instance. Now, he was a funny old dude. Thought he was God...and then he died. Such a shame he didn't come back to life. But then, no gods are perfect...or so Chronos once told me. Bearing in mind he was still holding a grudge against Zeus, and no one can hold a grudge like a genuine god, let me tell you...”

The Dalek in the lead whirled around and pointed his weapon at the Doctor's chest. The other Dalek's stopped, as well.

“Do not profane Emperor of the Daleks!” The lead Dalek shrieked, practically shaking with rage.

“OK, alright then.” The Doctor said humbly, “I apologize for the Emperor Dalek being a funny old dude.” The Daleks still had their guns aimed at him. “Sorry, Forgot who I was talking to for a minute there.” The Doctor spat out, his face suddenly darkening with anger. “Daleks can't be funny. Or happy, or even pleasantly cheerful. You lot only thrive of negative emotions, like mushrooms, you grow best in darkness and dung.”

The head Dalek guard simply stood there, silently regarding the Doctor for a moment. Then, he turned away. It was if it knew that the Doctor's words were being used as weapons, and therefore to be disregarded, because to a Dalek, words were the weapons of weaklings. Leading the way, the head Dalek told the others of his kind to place Amy, Rory and Malcolm in the cell with River. Malcolm gave an involuntary start, as the cell door clanged shut behind him.

The head Dalek guard then personally escorted the Doctor to an shallow alcove set into the wall, across from River's cell. There, a beam of light came down, a bright circle entrapping the Doctor in one small area. He looked up and frowned at its source in the ceiling, and wondered if he could sonic it without triggering alarms all over the ship. Probably not, but it might work as a distraction. The prison wasn't meant for comfort. It was meant to put prisoners under stress and exhaustion, to wear them down and weaken them. The area of the cell was was too small for him to sit or even move very much.

The head Dalek instructed the other guards to keep close watch on the prisoners, before it went back to make its report to the Central Command Dalek.

“Wow, you look....” Amy said, staring at River.

“A tad overdressed?” Rory finished for her.

“Stop it, Rory. No, you look beautiful, River...for a prisoner, I mean.” Amy said, annoyed at Rory for finishing her sentence for her. She hated that.

River Song was standing there, smiling. She was dressed in a full length royal blue and gold sequined evening gown, replete with elbow length gold silk gloves and matching glittery flats, which sparkled even in the prison area's low lighting conditions. Her hair was done up in an elaborate fashion, complemented by a small diamond and sapphire tiara. The Doctor also, was staring. He looked at her, his eyes askance. River raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him, and curtsied. He only snorted in reply.

“Oh come on, Doctor,” Amy said, noting his response. “admit it, she looks nice.”

“If those shoes were ruby red,” he said, staring at her sparkling togs, “you could click your heels together three times in be back home in Kansas in time for tea. No wonder the Daleks captured you. How could they miss you? Must've been a sight, trying to out-run them in that get-up.”

Unable to help himself, Rory snickered, and got a kick in the shin from Amy. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you look...really nice, River.”

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Don't encourage her.”

As the others continued to speak among themselves, the Doctor's mind pondered the words of the Dalek leader. Did the Master really escape from his battle with Rassilon? The Doctor reached out with his mind. But, that hollow echo of emptiness, that severed mental tie with his people, was still there. The abject despondancy of total loss constantly haunted him, even though he tried to push it away, to get on with his life. Yet, as unlikely as it seemed, the Doctor knew it that with the Master, the unlikely had often proved itself to be quite true. The TARDIS gave him something to hold on to, like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. He knew he'd have long been lost without her. And, even though he and the Master were sworn enemies, the very fact of the Master's existance, the knowledge that he wasn't the last of his species, gave him a reason to hope, to dream, to believe in his own future again.

“I think you look lovely, miss.” Malcolm said, smiling for the first time, and holding out his hand. “Hello, I'm Malcolm.”

“The name's River Song,” she told him, shaking his hand. “Bet you're sorry you went for a ride in the TARDIS, now. Never meet your heroes, they say. And they're probably right.”

“You can say that again.” Rory mumbled under his breath.

“Erm—actually, no I'm not sorry. Well, not really.” Malcolm told her. “I admit I'm a bit scared though. But...it's the Doctor! And the TARDIS! And, I'm on an alien space ship!”

“Yes, I am aware of that.” River nodded..

“I know exactly what you mean. Hard to resist, isn't it?” Amy agreed with Malcolm, patting him on the shoulder. “ It's like eating hot buttered popcorn or a packet of your favourite crisps. Once you open those TARDIS doors, you can't stop yourself.”

“ I've always dreamed of this, ever since I joined U.N.I.T., and what's the point of dreams,” Malcolm reasoned, “if you turn down the opportunity to fulfill one when it comes along?”

“Exactly!” Amy agreed enthusiastically.

“Like the opportunity of us getting married, then having to wait 'till after I died and came back to life as a plastic Roman action figure?” Rory said sardonically. Malcolm looked at him strangely, while Amy merely let out a martyred sigh.

“But, we did get married eventually, Rory.” she told him patiently, with the unspoken meaning of So shut up about it already! in her voice.

“Although, my first duty is to the people of Earth, of course.” Malcolm continued, “If they'd needed me back in London in defence of the planet, I would have had to stay behind and do my duty. I'm only sorry the major wouldn't listen back there. The Doctor knows what he's on about. He's sharp as a tack, that one, nothing gets by him.” Malcolm said, motioning towards the Doctor, standing in the glaring white circle of his cell.

“Hang on Amy, hold the phone a minute,” the Doctor interrupted them with a frown, “did you actually just compare TARDIS travel with eating a packet of crisps?”

Abruptly, the conversation was interrupted by a three-dimensional flat screen projection appearing out of thin air, in front of the Doctor's cell.

“Doc-tor!” Said the Central Command Dalek, as his image flickered on the screen floating above the Doctor's head.

“Yeah, that's my name, don't wear it out.” The Doctor replied flatly, wondering what new hell the Daleks were conjuring up for him. He didn't have long to wait.

“To ensure that you help us with the time submersion device, a demonstration will be given, to show you what will happen if you fail.” The Central Command Dalek told him.

“No!” The Doctor said incredulously, his hands clenched. He watched helplessly, an iceberg of dread suddenly settling into the pit of his stomach, as the Dalek guard faced the humans in the cell and aimed it's weapon arm at them. “I will help you, I give you my word as a Prydonian, I give you my word as the last of the Time Lords! Just leave my friends alone!” He pleaded, looking up desperately at the projection hovering above.

“Get back, all of you!” River shouted, putting herself in front of Amy, Rory and Malcolm as the Dalek outside the cell edged closer to the bars.

“No, River! You can't!” The Doctor yelled desperately, sending ripples around the white confining beams of his cell, as he surged against it.

“Doctor, I---” River began, looking across into the Doctor's eyes, silently trying to convey her feelings.

River's voice was cut off by the discordant, high-pitched sound of the Dalek's death ray. The flash of its beam in the subdued lighting of the prison block was reflected on the Doctor's white, horror-stricken face. It was followed immediately by a terrible scream.